Love Lift Me
by divine-serenityJenevieve
Summary: Natalie learns from Evangeline and Layla that the imposter who claimed to be Cristian is indeed Natalie’s husband, a fact that John has been hiding from Natalie at Cristian’s request. Confused and emotionally shaken, Natalie must decide between the husba
1. Revelations

_**Love Lift Me**_

By Jenevieve

**Summary:** Natalie learns from Evangeline and Layla that the imposter who claimed to be Cristian is indeed Natalie's husband, a fact that John has been hiding from Natalie at Cristian's request. Confused and emotionally shaken, Natalie must decide between the husband she loved and buried, and the new love of her life who has been keeping secrets from her.

**Rating:** R for sexual situations

**Disclaimer:** I sadly do not own any of the characters. They are all the wonderful creations of Agnes Nixon and the writers of _One Life to Live_, and I am only taking advantage of my love of the show to play with them for a little while.

**Spoilers:** Follows the current storyline of the developing relationship between John McBain and Natalie Vega after Natalie was saved from Hayes Barber. The story follows the basic direction of the storyline but it is completely my own creation building off of hints gleaned from the show up until this point.

**A/N: **Lyrics used in this fan fiction are from Amanda Marshall's song "Love Lift Me" which also lends its name to this fan fic.

_Somebody told me_

_Once in a lifetime_

_Destiny finds you and blows you away_

_Spins you in circles_

_Pulls you in pieces_

_Bleeds you like Jesus_

_And goes on its way_

_---_

**Chapter 1: Revelations**

It was late, nearly midnight, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She sat silently in the near darkness, her legs curled up beside her on the couch, the soft warm glow of the fire in the fireplace across from her the only light in the room, crackling and popping flames making her red hair shimmer like fire. A pile of tissues lay balled up and scattered along the base of the couch, a discarded empty Kleenex box lying on its side beneath the legs of the coffee table beside her. Her eyes stared straight ahead into the flames, slightly bloodshot and puffy, the only lingering hints of the tears that had flowed only hours earlier. It had been a rough day and for once she was grateful that she had Llanfair all to herself.

Quietly she twirled the long stem of the wine glass she held in her lap. She had to admit she felt a little better and was thankful to the bottle of Pinot Noir she had nearly finished off. But still an ache remained in her chest as her mind continued to replay the events of the day. If only she hadn't gone to Capricorn…

But Antonio had called her; said it was urgent, about Jessica, so she had gone. At first everything was fine. Antonio had called her to let her know Jess was back. Somehow he'd found her in California but she wasn't well. He'd just left her at the hospital where she was being kept under constant supervision. Of course she had insisted to see Jess, but Antonio had said no. Said she would be fine, that she just needed some time. His voice had been shaking with such concern that she had agreed to what he had asked and thanked him for keeping her in the loop. They had shared a smile, a hug, a few more moments of quiet sympathy and comfort over what they both had been enduring lately: for Antonio, his messy fight for custody of his daughter, Jessica's mysterious disappearances, and a new relationship with Layla (though considering his reaction to Jess's reappearance, she doubted Layla was anything but a lapse in judgment on Antonio's part) and for her, her slow but positive return to the comfortable safety of her life after being kidnapped by Hayes Barber and her new relationship with John.

John. For a moment, her mind snapped back to the present and she felt tears rising up again. She sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the wine glass tighter. She was stronger than this, and with a deep breath she finished off the glass of wine and allowed the memories to consumer her again.

She had been in the middle of saying goodbye to Antonio when they had arrived, the Williamson sisters. She had tried to excuse herself, something in her stomach telling her to leave, but she had been too slow, too polite. Evangeline had appeared nervous, fidgety, her fingers constantly twisting the straps of her purse. She had tried to get Layla to leave as well but her younger sister had just stood there with a grin that sent shivers down her spine, like a fat cat with a mouse happily in its mouth. And before she knew it Layla was shoving papers in her face rambling about Cristian, about how he was alive and in jail. It all had seemed like a blur and it hadn't been until Layla started screaming about how Cris was alive rotting in prison while his wife shacked up with the man who she had stolen from her sister and who had been lying all this time, that she had awoken from her stooper and nearly slapped Layla across the face if Antonio hadn't intervened.

It was then that Evangeline had stepped in and explained it all. She described how the imposter Cristian had indeed been the real thing, her Cris, her beloved husband, and that John had known all along but said nothing. Her vision had swayed slightly and she found herself gripping Antonio's forearm for support. For a moment she felt numb, refusing to believe it, but as the world rushed back in around her she found herself staring down at the results of the DNA test John had convinced her needed to be done to prove the man who she thought was her husband wasn't…but the tests said he was Cris.

"Antonio?" she whispered, looking up into his equally shocked face.

"Of course this doesn't diminish the fact that he is still a convicted murderer," Evangeline continued, suddenly more confident in her demeanor, "but when I met with him yesterday I learned his cell has been next to Carlo Hesser's for awhile now, and there is a good chance that if he turned state's evidence against Hesser that he could get early parole."

She had continued to stare at Antonio, questions and confusion bombarding her from all directions. John knew!

"No wonder John went with you," Layla smirked. "Needed to protect his secrets. Probably felt guilty over it, so he figured getting with you would somehow make up for it. Must feel pretty good to know your man only picked you because he felt guilty, but then again you got over Cristian pretty fast yourself." Her smirk grew wider. She was enjoying herself now, gloating, just waiting for her to break right in front of them. Nearly laughing with delight, Layla shot Evangeline a satisfied smile.

"I want to see him." The words had left her mouth before her mind caught up and processed what she was saying.

"I really don't think that's appropriate right now, Nat…" Evangeline had started.

"I want to see him right now," she had turned full force now, her eyes boring into Evangeline.

"I don't know…"

"Just do it!" She was starting to lose it but was determined to not let the Williamson harpies see her cry. "If you managed to get in to see him then you can do it for me. I don't care how but you've known about this for at least a few days now, right?"

Evangeline nodded. "About two weeks."

"Two weeks," she'd shaken her head at that little revelation. Evangeline Williamson had known before she had and for a good two weeks. "Then as far as I'm concerned you owe me for not telling me sooner."

Evangeline made to protest but she had cut her off with a look that had made the usually composed attorney visibly flinch. "No, you owe me Evangeline, and I don't care how you do it, but do it. I want to see my husband by this afternoon!" And without another word she had turned and walked as casually as she could out the door and into the rainy morning air.

She had been too numb to think as she waited patiently at the small metal table in the large concrete visiting room of Statesville Prison, her eyes staring into the fuzzy reflection of her face in the scratched metal top of the table. It all felt surreal, like the start to a bad nightmare, and unconsciously she pinched at her arm. But she didn't wake up, John's hands and arms didn't reach out to her, pulling her back from a dream. No this was as real a moment as they come…

And then he had entered the room. John Doe, the man she had believed to be her husband returned from the dead, the man who had killed Tico in cold blood, the man she had come to believe to be an imposter. But he wasn't an imposter, he was Cristian, her Cristian, and she felt tears of confusion welling up inside.

"Natalie," he whispered gently, surprised to see her sitting before him.

"I know who you are," she replied quietly.

He started to protest as he took the seat across from her.

"Stop lying!" she cried, jumping to her feet and slamming her hands down on the table. "No more lies, from anyone! You're really Cristian Vega. I saw the DNA results, I know the truth."

"McBain told you didn't, he?" Cris growled. "That son of a bitch, I swear…"

"John told me nothing," she replied flatly, her voice devoid of emotion for the moment. "In retrospect he tried to, a few times, but no, he never divulged your ugly little secret."

"Then how?"

"Not important. I just wanted to know why? Why didn't you or John or anyone else tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd wait, knew you'd waste your life waiting for me to get out of here, and I couldn't let that happen. John agreed so I made him swear not to tell you the truth. I wanted you to have a chance at happiness again, but when McBain showed up and told me that you two were involved…"

"John came to see you?"

"Yeah, just after he saved you from that pit, though it was his fault you were taken in the first place…"

Cristian continued on for a few moments but she had tuned him out, the early days of her growing relationship with John dancing before her eyes. The phone call involving a prisoner. She had assumed it was about Hayes and he had let her, but it hadn't been about Barber, it had been about Cris.

"I can't be the husband you deserve, Natalie," Cris's voice brought her back to reality. "I'm stuck in here and will be for a long time. I still can't remember what happened to me between the time I first disappeared and when I returned last year, or why I killed Tico, but I did it, and I sealed our fate in that moment. I'm sorry. It might not be worth much but I still love you."

She swallowed hard, unnerved by his confession and slowly she began to pace. "Evangeline says you may be able to get early parole."

He nodded without a word, his eyes watching her pace.

"The warden told me you could get out of here as early as next month."

"I'm not holding my breath," he scoffed. Then softly he added, "And even if I did, which I still don't really buy into, I wouldn't expect anything…"

"I don't know what to think right now," she continued, ignoring him. She began to rub her folded forearms with her hands as if she was cold. "I'm not even sure how to feel. I'm involved with John, Cris. Things are good with us, really good." She turned sharply on her heels and looked him straight in the eyes. "I love him."

"And he lied to you. It's because of him you were kidnapped and are upset now," Cris snapped back. "And I know you still love me."

"He lied because you asked him to," she replied quietly, "you just said so yourself."

Cris stared at the table top.

"But he did lie to me…" she was thinking aloud, her voice shaking slightly with the churning emotions seething just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry," he offered weakly.

"I need to leave now," she said softly.

"Natalie," he reached across the table and grabbed her arm.

For a moment she stared up into his face, a tear escaping from her eyes. She stared up into Cris's eyes, the same deep cool brown she'd fallen into so many times. Her eyes moved down his face to his arms and chest, a place she had always felt so safe in when he held her close.

"I have to go," she pulled back from him slightly and he let her. Turning she had walked quickly out of the room too afraid to look back.

The chirping of her cell phone broke her from her thoughts, and reaching over she retrieved it from the coffee table. She had 26 messages: three were from Antonio and one from Carlotta no doubt confused and wanting to check up on her, five were from Michael McBain probably offering sympathy and support over his brother's betrayal, seven were from Rex…. She smiled slightly at Rex's name. She could just imagine the different methods of killing John Rex must have offered up with each new message. And finally there were ten from John.

Taking a deep breath, she punched in her password and began to filter through the messages.

"Natalie, it's John."

Why did he always start his messages like that? Didn't he know she had his number in her phone already so he didn't need to identify himself by name each time?

"Look just call me as soon as you get this."

"It's John again. Just call me."

"Natalie, please call me as soon as you get this. This is John by the way."

"John again. Where are you?"

"It's John. Please just call me, Natalie. We need to talk."

Etcetera etcetera etcetera.

As she punched in the code to erase the last message everything suddenly seemed crystal clear, and getting to her feet she headed up to her room to retrieve her jacket and purse.


	2. Attorney for Hire

**Chapter 2: Attorney for Hire**

Hugh Hughes sat behind the large mahogany expanse of his desk staring down at the pages of the case briefs his interns had put together for him. As he rummaged through the stacks of federal and state rulings, forensic reports, and signed affidavits, he had to admit the kids had done a thorough job this time. Kids. God how long had it been since he had been one of them? What, five, seven years out now? Just an all too eager too please law student back then, desperate to be out of the classroom and into the courtroom, still clinging to ideals of right and wrong; man, did it felt like ages ago. Days and nights filled with mind-numbing hours of flipping through stacks of case rulings from all different jurisdictions, compiling potentially useful rulings and arguments into briefs for one self-righteous senior partner or another, who was always all too willing to pick apart the work but would happily embrace the inevitable praise and credit that went hand in hand with a conviction. Of course if it was an acquittal the tirade would begin…

Hugh shook his head, bringing him back to the present, and he focused his attention on the papers before him once again. That's why he stayed late so often. He refused to subject his interns to the same abuse so he continued to do his own research as well as checking and re-checking every last brief one of the law students would slip across his desk. He may have been making the big bucks now but he still felt more at home at night among the dusty pages of legal briefs than behind the microphone of the all too eager Llanview media that he seemed to have to deal with more and more each day.

Yawning, he loosened the knot on his tie so it hung crookedly at the base of his neck and rolled up the sleeves of his crisply pressed white dress shirt. He shot a wistful look at the Mr. Coffee instant brewer that sat on a card table in the far corner of his office. If only he had remembered to get filters earlier in the day, he could be enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee, black, at this very moment. The thought made him yawn again. Yep, definitely going to be a long night.

The watch on his wrist told him it was well after midnight, and with a heavy sigh he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he could take a short nap on the couch that lined the far wall of his office? Just a short little cat nap couldn't hurt. Beside it wouldn't be much use for him to go through all of the files unless his brain was focused enough to pay attention to what he was doing.

Slowly he pushed himself up from his desk and made his way over to the couch. Dropping down heavily onto the soft plush leather, he reached over and removed the small clock alarm he kept on a shelf by the couch for just such an occasion. It was nearly 1 a.m. so he set the alarm for 2:30 a.m.; an hour and half of sleep should be enough to give him the second wind he was looking for, and with another yawn he slipped off his glasses and placed them beside the alarm clock. Reaching up he flicked the light switch off and felt his body welcome the deep cold darkness that he was suddenly plunged into.

But just as Hugh settled down into the soft embrace of the couch, there came a sudden yet soft knock on the door. For a moment he remained motionless in the darkness, staring up at the blackness above him not completely sure he had really heard a knock. But sure enough, it came again, this time a bit louder. But who would be coming by at this hour?

With a slight groan, Hugh pushed himself up into a sitting position and flipped on the lights. Squinting in the suddenly blinding brightness he fumbled for his glasses, as a third knock resonated through the room.

"Just a minute," he called out, a slightly irritated edge evident in his voice. Slowly his eyes re-adjusted to the light and stumbling slightly he made his way over to the door. Though who would be knocking on his door at this time of day was beyond him.

Maybe there was some new information in the Barber case…or maybe the Hesser investigation? But that didn't make much sense. If it was Nora or the police commissioner or any of the other numerous people who frequented his office they wouldn't expect to find him here at this time of night. So then who…

The mop of fiery red hair that stood in his doorway answered the question for him.

"You must be Hugh Hughes," she smiled, extending her hand. "I'm Natalie…"

"…Vega," Hugh finished for here, surprise evident on his face as he took her hand. She had a good grip for a woman, confident and determined yet still delicate and feminine. Hugh found himself liking her immediately despite the fact she had interrupted his nap.

"So you know who I am then?" she pressed somewhat shyly. "Guess pretty much everyone around her must know me then."

"It's just your picture, your face, it's been everywhere lately…" Hugh began.

"Yeah, getting kidnapped and dropped in a hole by a psychopath will do that to a person." Natalie shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Um, are you going to invite me in or should we pull up chairs out here in the hallway?"

"Oh, how rude of me! Sorry. Please come in," Hugh replied stepping aside to allow Natalie to slip by him. "I'm sorry it's just you surprised me. I mean it's so late after all."

"Yeah, I know," Natalie sighed taking the empty chair facing Hugh's desk as he slipped back into his own chair. "I just needed to talk with someone right away, and well I saw the light on under your door…at least I thought I saw a light."

"Oh, I was just thinking of taking a short nap, that's all. It wasn't that important anyway," he smiled seeing a look of guilt slip across Natalie's face. He patted the pile of folders and papers on his desk. "I really should have been working anyway."

"As long as this is alright…me being here right now?" Natalie stammered slightly, suddenly very self-conscious.

"Not a problem. But if you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you get into the building anyway?" Hugh stared at the woman before him, a slight smile playing on his lips; his curiosity fully piqued by her sudden appearance.

"Oh, the guys that run security here are ex-cops. I've known them forever through my work down at the precinct."

"Ah, a lady with connections, I can respect that." He smiled warmly in an attempt to make up for the earlier awkwardness. "So Natalie Vega, what exactly can I do for you this evening?"

"I need you to find out some information for me," Natalie began, pulling a thick manila envelop from her bag. "And I need you to do this as discretely as possible."

------

About an hour later Hugh was holding the door open for Natalie.

"I'll see what I can do for you first thing tomorrow morning, Ms. Vega."

"Natalie," she touched his forearm gently as she stepped passed him. "Ms. Vega sounds so formal and besides we both know that isn't quite accurate anymore." A shadow passed over her face as she said it, taking some of the vibrance out of her features and replacing it with a weariness that seemed so foreign to one still so young.

Hugh nodded sympathetically. "I have some connections in the State House which should help to expedite things. I'll call you tomorrow as soon as I learn more. And don't worry…"

Hugh put a steadying hand on her shoulder as he noticed the fear in her eyes. "…no one will know about this but me and you, at least not until all the papers have been signed and filed."

"Thank you," Natalie smiled up at him, and it was the first genuine one Hugh had seen her flash since she had entered his office.

"My advice, go home and try to get some sleep. There is nothing more that can be done until the other offices open for business in a few hours."

She nodded and with a parting 'thank you' was gone.

Hugh shut the door behind her and for a moment remained rooted to the floor, his hand still on the door knob. What a story! The poor woman!

"_I need you to take care of this for me, Mr. Hughes. It has to be you. You're the only one with no ties or involvement to any of this. Before I do anything else I need to know where I stand, what my options are. Please. I don't know who else to talk to." _

She had been so insistent and the story she had told had moved him so deeply he couldn't not say 'yes' to her request. But now that she was gone, he couldn't help but wonder how best to proceed. Either way whatever the final verdict was Natalie Vega had a long hard decision before her, and Hugh had a feeling that either way she was going to lose.


End file.
